


what could be better than this?

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/F, F/M, Helmstrolls Mention, M/M, Multi, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Prophetic Visions, The Force, some of them would be spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 05:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15308403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: You're not going to bitch, but you're also not planning on going back any time soon. If someone gets the smart idea to start turning psionics back into batteries, you'd like to be lightyears away when it happens, thank you very fucking much.





	what could be better than this?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlassesBlu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassesBlu/gifts).



> \- or star wars au. Give me space drama with lazer swords and weird space magic
> 
> I'm also all for complex relational love with every relationship being pretty different from the others and I wanna hear all about it >:)

This is the age where everything is still new, the time before ships and droids were not cobbled together out of scrap heaps, repaired with whatever you happened to have at hand. This is the world before that one, the age before that age, the time before the time that time would rather forget.

You know this, because you've seen it coming for you.

 

A starving wolf that bloodies its teeth on the throat of the well-fed one, the weight of fear and fear of death giving strength to its bite, honor to its kill—there will be no honor in the world that comes next. There is very little in this one at all.

 

* * *

 

You snap out of it, and blink the stars from your eyes—a last remnant of wherever you went, wherever you go when the world itself comes calling for you. "Hi, TZ," you say, to the face you see looking down at you. "How bad was it this time?"

Sometimes, it's bad, sometimes, it's worse, and sometimes it's goddamn useful. You've noticed there's a lot more of the first and second than the actual third. It kind of sucks, but then, that's the Force for you.

Judging by the grimace Terezi's wearing, it's a bit more of the first, with a dash of the second thrown in for added zest and flair. You'll take it. The second leaves your happy little clade stumbling around not so happily for a few days, sometimes. The hazards of dating other Force sensitives come back to bite you in your poorly proportioned ass.

 

She helps you to your feet, and you drop gratefully onto the first couch you see. Karkat and Aradia are probably off doing the pilot thing, which gives you some marginal amount of quiet time to take a quick break, before your other quads settle shit down into autopilot and come looking for you.

You don't mind so much. Gives you less time to dwell on shit.

 

Terezi drops down next to you, and tugs your head into her lap, fingercombing out your hair and skritching around the base of your horns. Without even meaning to, you kick up an embarrassment of a purr. "What was it this time? Death? Destruction? End of the world?"

She waggles her eyebrows at you, and you stick your tongue out at her. "I really regret telling you what I saw in my early days aboard this flying space heap," you grumble, and she grins. "I said it was the end of the world  _as we knew it_ , there's a big different there, ok."

"So? Was it?"

"...sorta, yeah. More like the end of current times, end of...this particular style of life, living, civilization." That's not going to go over well. Terezi likes this particular style of life. So do you.

 

When the Alternian Empire had gone up against a "galactic class threat", sweeps and desperate sweeps ago, it had lost, miserably, abominably, shamefully. Instead of taking the entire universe on and  _winning_ , it had been soundly defeated, and incorporated into the much greater, much more prepared, Galactic Republic.

Which had then proceeded to be  _completely_  fucking horrified at the way )(er Imperious Condescension ran things.

That major loss, and that shock and horror, coupled with your formerly shithole society being revealed to  _be_  a shithole, meant that a couple of warmhued psionics, a mutant, and a blind tealblood could be out and about on their own goddamn ship. Sure, there were complaints, and dissonance. A lot of the older seadwellers and purples, especially, had tried to "restore Alternia to its former glory".

That didn't matter. When it came to sheer numbers, there were a  _lot_  more of you, and none of you were willing to let go of this newfound freedom—especially not with the Galactic Republic on your side.

 

The idea of that coming crumpling down around you was...terrifying, to say the least.

 

Of your quads, you're the youngest. Aradia has you beat by a handful of perigees, Terezi's got a few good sweeps on you, and no one knows how old Karkat is. He's the best informed, though, especially compared to the three of you, who didn't live through the proper fall of the old Empress. According to him, the new one's pretty great, all things considered. Actually set up a counsel and everything, made it a constitutional monarchy and everything.

You're not going to bitch, but you're also not planning on going back any time soon. If someone gets the smart idea to start turning psionics back into batteries, you'd like to be lightyears away when it happens, thank you very fucking much.

 

There's a gentle tug on one of your horns, and you blink up at your moirail. "You're rambling," she says, her nose crinkled up like your words smell as bad as you feel.

"Oh, great," you mumble, dragging a hand down your face. "What was it this time?"

"Exposition, with a subtle hint of backstory," says Karkat Vantas, your sort-of-hatemate, as he saunters into the room. Wow, he looks good. You'd like to punch him, maybe. Built like a fucking brick, hot as hell, and  _definitely_  aware of it. "With possibly a fifty percent chance of bullshittery. You didn't even compliment my fucking glutes, you absolute heathen."

"Call me a reprobate and have done with it, KK, my head feels like it's going to explode." You drape an arm over said head rather dramatically. Even so, his annoyance turns into worry, quickly enough that you start wondering if your latest episode  _hadn't_  actually been "worse" instead of merely "bad".

Your fears are confirmed by the way he immediately drops to his knees at your side, hands on your face, your shoulders, to check you over. You'd squirm away, but there's real concern in his eyes, and okay, maybe, sometimes, you guys  _do_  flip a little pale.

(At least TZ thinks it's hot.)

He finally stops, reassured, and exchanges a "look" with Terezi. "Did you blow off enough psi yesterday?"

You huff, and reach out to put your hand over the entirety of his face. "Shhhhhh. Shhhh. Shh."

"That would be a no!" Enter the fourth member of your complicated and ever-changing relationship. Aradia practically sails over to the three of you—counterpoint to TZ's march, KK's swaggering saunter, and your...standard slouch, at best—leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

You immediately make some embarrassing sort of noise. 

Fucking matesprits.

"We'll be docking soon," she continues, dropping down next to Terezi, who tosses a mock growl her way at the "intrusion". "Good chance to resupply, blow off steam. How are you feeling right now, Sollux?"

You don't answer. You're too busy being drowned in loving affection from all of your quads.

Given that Aradia doesn't answer again, you're pretty sure this is good enough for her.

 

* * *

 

Once you arrive, there's a brief tussle over who gets to stay with the spaceship. While the Great Integration might have been old news to you four, there are still some planets that haven't had the pleasure of running into any trolls any time soon—or worse, planets and people that  _remember_  running into trolls. During the war.

Usually, there's not so much hatred as there is amusement. The Condesce's outward expansion had failed  _miserably_ , running up against the full might of the Galactic Republic so suddenly, and it was damn good luck that your crew didn't color higher than teal. Purples drew the brunt of the ire that seadwellers seemed to escape on account of being "exotic".

Psionics, though. Psionics were pitied.

You honestly would have rather taken the hatred than  _that_.

 

Aradia and Karkat win, which leaves you and Terezi to saunter awkwardly through the town, ignoring the open stares you get, and the way people start whispering before you approach and after you pass. "I wonder if they know how good your hearing is," you mutter to Terezi.

She flashes fangs at you, that make some jackass in a uniform jump. Not bad. "Doubt it. Or they'd stop wondering what pants surprises you were keeping when I was in earshot."

You choke, and shove her face, your ears burning golden in sheer embarrassment. _"TZ,"_ you admonish, even as she starts cackling. She's such a fucking dick.

 

By the time you get back with the supplies, the ship is  _mostly_  checked, and Karkat and Aradia are  _suspiciously_  clean. Your raised eyebrow is met with an innocent grin from Aradia, and a flushed faced denial from Karkat. You laugh, and kiss them both, before he can protest himself into an early grave.

"Besides," you tease them, as you get to work taking apart a section of the engine, your jumpsuit around your waist and tanktop stained with grease, "I'm better at this anyway."

If it weren't for the fact that they're both staring, just a little, you're pretty sure KK wouldn't be the only one flipping pitch for your nonexistent ass tonight. Score two, Team Captor.

Unfortunately, they don't stay distracted for long. Terezi already headed off to take a well-deserved nap in some ungodly corner of the ship, which leaves the you alone with the two of them. Judging by the look on Karkat's face, you're not going to get out of a Conversation very easily.

Your winning grin completely fails you. You're not that surprised. It usually takes third place, at best, considering what a fucking mess your mouth is, with some odd process of the Mother Grub's biology trying to cram in a double helping of fangs wherever it fucking could.

"Nope," Karkat says, plunking down right next to you as you work. Aradia takes up a position casually. You can't help but notice it  _also_  very casually cuts off any of your escape routes. "Talk."

You talk.

 

* * *

 

Four hours later, you're curled up in a hot bath with your matesprit, nearly folded in half to fit against her. The latest job had paid abominably well—nearly everyone flips pale for KK after a couple of minutes, and it does  _wonders_  for your bank accounts—and it meant you four could afford a suite for four at one of the nicer hotels in the area. Theoretically, there is more than enough room for you to stretch in the bath. In sad actuality, that would mean losing all of AA's warmth, and also, not being able to maximize your cuddles. Absolutely fucking tragic.

"Are you okay?" It's murmured into your hair, and you shift around in order to see her a little bit better. 

"Should I not be?"

She blows a raspberry on your neck, and you yelp, sloshing bathwater everywhere as you attempt your escape. "You know what I mean, Sollux."

You shrug, shifting around again, not quite looking her in the eyes. This time, she's the one who clambers into your lap. "I don't know. I mean. It's not like they're ever particularly clear, and sure, sometimes we can play puzzles with the shit  _I_  get and the shit  _you_  get, but it's not like there are a bunch of us out here. Force sensitive trolls are a relatively new thing, so no guides, no manuals, no help—"

Aradia presses her forehead to yours, forestalling your rant before you really get into it. "And yet we have four on one ship. What are the odds!" You reach up to wrap your arms around her, your eyes slipping shut as she continues. "We will make it work, Sollux. No matter what might be coming."

There's a sureness about her that's rooted in bedrock, an absolutely unshakeable foundation.

You're pretty sure it's infectious, given the way your shoulders drop, and you relax utterly, finally content to settle back and let yourself breathe.

"Yeah," you say, giving her a soft look, soft smile, a side of yourself you don't usually bring out for display. "Yeah, okay."

 

* * *

 

If enough time goes past between your visions, you tend to...forget about them, a little. The ugly anticipation of an oncoming one goes away, and you start thinking that maybe, maybe, you've already had your last. Unfortunately for you, that's usually when those fuckers choose to strike.

This one comes months after the previous, and it tears you right out of your own head and tosses you forward into a future that's worse than anything you could have ever imagined.

 

The Republic that had set the Alternian Empire on its head turned into an Empire all its own. Juggalo clowns and seadweller loyalists joining forces with the new Galactic Empire, to "reclaim" what they deemed to be rightfully theirs.

Everything you loved about Alternia—the scant handful of things you occasionally found yourself hivesick for—burning, burning, burning.

You jolt out of it with a gasp, and your quadmates—they're sitting around you, in the big pile, you must be at a dock—all startled. "It's coming," you say, and this time when they put their questions to you, you finally have proper answers.

 

When you're done filling them in, Karkat pushes off the ground and dusts off his hands. The motion gives you a weird little thrill—like he's brushing away something, like you're about to see a side of him that  _he_  usually doesn't bring out for display.

Given the gleam in his eyes, the way his chin sets—you think you might be spot on with that guess.

"Right then," he says, looking the three of you over. "I need to call my moirail."

Your jaw drops.  _Karkat Vantas has a moirail?_  Considering the fact that he regularly used his pale heartthrob status to secure jobs and get ahead of the competition, you were rather left wondering who the fuck this moirail of his was, and how the fuck they were  _okay_ with all of that.

A glance around the little circle confirms it:  _none_  of your quads knew Karkat even had a dedicated moirail, much less who the lucky fucker was.

 

Your attention snaps to him, as he heads to console and dials up a call. A face immediately appears on the screen. It has fins. It has biolum so violet it's nearly tyrian.

It's the goddamn Commander of )(er Radiance's fleet.

"Kar? What's up, we weren't—" Eridan Ampora noticed the four of you, and does a double take. "Wait, are we finally goin' public? Shit, couldn't you have given me a little more warnin', I'm not even dressed—"

"Shut up, Eridan," Karkat says, but there's a fondness in there that would drop your jaw even further, if it was possible. "And put Feferi on the line. We have work to do."

 

You have so many questions. You have so many shiny new answers.

Even better than that, though—you finally,  _finally_ , have a chance to do something about everything that's been haunting your fucking sleep since the night you were hatched.

 

This is the age where your clade—far bigger than you'd first thought it, apparently—goes out and gets shit done.

And you kinda think you like the sound of that.


End file.
